Ragnarok Rising: Desolation: Book Five of the Ragnarok Rising Saga

by D. A. Roberts

  “Antidote,” replied Vigdis without taking her eyes off of me. “Valgard used a poison that is known to our people. We call it The Breathless Sleep.”

  “It kills by making you unable to breathe and lose feeling throughout your body,” explained Valdis.

  “Not before it paralyzes you and you collapse,” added Vigdis. “Then you will be unable to do anything while you slowly suffocate.”

  “And you’re sure that you have the right antidote,” said Spec-4, turning to face Vigdis.

  “I am certain,” she replied. “What is uncertain is if I was able to administer it in time. Unfortunately, time is something we do not have much of.”

  “Why is that?” I managed to gasp.

  I could feel my breath was slowly returning to me, but my body was still resisting all attempts to move.

  “Because those horns are not merely signaling the death of Valgard,” said Valdis.

  “They are calling Loki out to finish the battle,” Vigdis added, shaking her head.

  “Oh shit,” I wheezed.

  “Can you fight?” asked Spec-4.

  “Do I have a choice?” I replied, desperately willing my body to respond.

  “Take a moment,” said Valdis, wiping the sweat from my head with a cloth.

  “We do not have a moment,” said Vigdis, urgently. “The gates to the castle are opening, as we speak. Loki is coming.”

  “Bring me my swords,” I said, nodding at Vigdis.

  While the twins moved off to grab my fallen weapons, Spec-4 put her hand on my cheek and turned my face so that she could look me in the eye.

  “You can’t fight him,” she said, matter-of-factly.

  “He doesn’t know that,” I replied. “Help me to my feet and get my weapons. We’re going to try to stall him until this antidote runs its course.”

  “How long do you think it will take?” she asked.

  “The rest of my life,” I replied. “Let’s go.”

  The twins returned with my swords and knelt beside me. With difficulty, they managed to leverage me to my feet and helped me lean against the side of Volcano. The big stallion was hurt nearly as bad as I was, but still refused to quit fighting. How could I deny him the chance to fall in the most epic battle of our age?

  “Get him into the saddle,” said Vigdis. “Loki will not be able to see that he cannot stand.”

  “She’s right,” I added. “Let’s get this show on the road.

  Once I was in the saddle, Volcano began digging at the ground. The big stallion was eagerly anticipating the coming battle. Although, he was still bleeding heavily, he showed no sign of the pain I knew he must be feeling.

  “Try to keep him talking for as long as you can,” said Vigdis. “The effects of the poison should fade in a few more minutes.”

  “That’s good to know,” I replied. “How will I know for sure that it’s done its job?”

  “The antidote can kill you on its own if you do not have the poison in your system,” explained Valdis. “It will attack the poison and then your body will reject it.”

  “Reject it?” I asked. “What does that mean?”

  “You will vomit blood,” answered Valdis. “Do not hold it in or you will die.”

  “Is there anything that your people have that won’t kill you?” I asked, dreading the answer.

  “We find pleasure in our own way,” replied Valdis. “Survive this and we will show you.”

  Spec-4 gave them both a dirty look but I only shook my head. If their antidotes were lethal, then whatever they did for fun had me worried. Then I remembered the caveat to her statement. First, I had to survive this.

  Chapter Thirty Five

  Laufeyson

  Burned are their homes, exile and death

  Scatter the loyal men;

  Yet ere the sword cool in the sheath

  Charlie will come again.

  - The Skye Boat Song

  - Scottish Folk Song

  Getting into the saddle on Volcano was almost more than I could accomplish without falling. The twins had to steady me until I could balance on my own. It wasn’t easy with the effects of the poison still lingering in my system. It was right after I had managed to get into the saddle when I felt the burning pressure begin to build in my stomach. I knew what it was, too. They had warned me to expect this. I was going to vomit blood and it would help to clear my system. What they didn’t tell me was just how much blood there was going to be.

  I doubled over and pitched out of the saddle. Valdis caught me and helped ease me to the ground. By the time I had my feet on the ground, Vigdis had the other arm and they were helping me onto my knees. Then the expulsion began. I threw up all of the contents of my stomach and a lot of blood. I wasn’t sure how much it was, but it looked like a lot. It splattered out and covered a wide section of the icy ground.

  I could feel it coming out of my nose and it burned so bad, it brought tears to my eye. When I wiped them away, I found that it was also blood. I was literally crying blood. I felt the waves of nausea pass through me and more blood erupted from my mouth and nose. I felt light headed and knew that I was losing more blood than was good for me. Not that any blood loss was good for me. Something was terribly wrong.

  “This will pass, Grant,” soothed Vigdis. “The effects are harsh but they pass quickly.”

  “So much blood,” I said, coughing.

  “It only seems as such,” replied Valdis. “A significant amount of the liquid is the antidote.”

  “I think your damned antidote is killing him,” snapped Spec-4.

  “He is strong,” answered Vigdis. “He will survive.”

  “He should not fear this,” added Valdis. “He should concern himself with the Trickster. He is coming.”

  “Get me on my horse,” I gasped, still wracked with pain.

  With effort, I managed to get upright in the saddle once more. My vision swam in and out of focus as I felt the big warhorse shifting beneath me. Volcano was still eager for battle, but I could sense his confusion. He wasn’t accustomed to a rider that didn’t keep a firm hand on the reins. I was just hoping that he wouldn’t take the opportunity and bold out from under me in an effort to get back into the fight.

  “Easy boy,” I muttered, patting his muscular neck.

  I could feel my strength trying to return to me, but the nausea hadn’t fully passed. It was going to be difficult to control Volcano, much less fight if it didn’t pass soon. I exerted every ounce of will that I possessed to force my vision to focus and my queasiness to clear. More than just staying in the saddle was riding on this. I had to stall Loki long enough for this to pass or I didn’t stand a chance in Hel of winning this fight.

  Gripping the reins tightly, I settled Volcano down and nodded at the twins to release me. They reluctantly stepped away and stayed ready to jump back to my side to keep me from falling. I was pleased to disappoint them and managed to stay upright. I could feel Volcano begin to shift his weight in anticipation of the charge into battle.

  “Be careful,” said Spec-4, watching me with concern clearly etched on her face.

  “Careful?” I asked, forcing a grin. “I think we’re way beyond that now. That ship has sailed. Now, we either go big or go home.”

  “There is no going home,” said Vigdis, taking my statement literally. “This is a battle that you cannot walk away from. We must win here today or we shall all perish.”

  “I believe that is what he meant, sister,” said Valdis. “There is no turning back, now.”

  Nudging Volcano’s flanks, I moved away from them and headed directly towards the main gate of Pensmore. Loki would be coming from that direction and I planned on meeting him head on. If I could get him to talk to me, I might be able to stall for time. I had no illusions about talking him out of the fight. No words that I could speak would make him call off Ragnarok. This was only going to end in blood.

  As much as I wanted to look back at Spec-4, I kept my eye focused on what was coming. I
knew that the chances of this being the last time I spoke to her were high. After all, despite all of the opponents that I had faced up until this point, this fight was going to be different. This time it wasn’t just a mortal warrior. This time, it was Loki himself. The chances of coming through this fight victorious were low.

  As I approached the line of warriors that had assembled across the path to Pensmore, I could see someone approaching the rear of the line. The warriors began parting before them like water breaking away from the prow of a massive ship. If it was Loki, then he wasn’t coming alone. It was clear that whoever it was, they had an impressive entourage of riders with them. This group wasn’t made up of Hrimthurssar mounted on Vargr. They were mounted on horses that looked to be nearly as tall as the Eldjötnar animals, but broader across the body. Mounted on them were humans. They looked like the Vikings of old, only there was a sinister look about them. It only took me a moment to realize that they were the dishonored fallen Asgardians. They were the soldiers of Hel.

  At the head of their column rode a warrior clad in golden armor and a green tunic. His helmet had long horns that curved back over his head. His horse was as black as the night sky with both mane and tail billowing in the wind. He held an enormous spear in one hand with a blade as long as a sword, wider than the palm of my hand and serrated along the lower half of the blade. He was wearing the fur of some gigantic dark beast as his cloak. Beneath his helmet, his eyes sparkled with a feral intelligence and keen intensity. I had the feeling that he didn’t miss a single detail with those eyes. It was not going to be easy to fool him.

  Power emanated from him in waves as he approached. An expectant hush fell over the crowd as the assembled warriors got their first glimpse of him. From their reaction, I had little doubt that this was Loki, the Trickster. Loki Laufeyson, the God of Mischeif and Strife. I knew in my gut that this was him and I felt like someone had poured ice water down my spine. There was no doubting the power of his presence.

  Stopping about twenty yards away from me, I could feel his eyes taking my measure for a long moment. I did my best to stay tall in the saddle and look unimpressed, but I knew he was taking in everything. He held his gaze on me before taking a slow glance up and down the line of warriors that were assembled behind me. The look on his face could only be described as bored indifference.

  “You bring this rabble to face me?” he said at last. “They pin their hopes on a warrior who can barely sit in the saddle. Did they not tell you that none of them will dare challenge me directly? Without you, they will all fall back in line like the pathetic fools that they are.”

  “We’ll see,” I replied, sounding more confident than I actually felt.

  “So you are the legendary Wylie Grant,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Frankly, I expected more.”

  “There’s a trail of dead bodies behind me that might disagree with you,” I said, shifting my weight uncomfortably.

  “Perhaps,” he said, shrugging. “I must admit that I am impressed that you defeated Surtr, Thrym and Valgard. To be honest, I never expected you to last this long.”

  “So you’ve been aware of me for some time?” I asked, confused.

  “Oh yes,” he admitted, “from the very beginning, actually. I have no idea why Odin chose you.”

  “So all of this was set in play from the very beginning?”

  It was more of a rhetorical question and I didn’t really expect or want an answer.

  “The cycle of Ragnarok was destined to begin anew,” he said, examining his nails and wiping away something on his tunic. “All that I did was to help it along and change the cycle. I had hoped that by changing it, we could end the accursed cycle and be done with it.”

  “With you on top,” I said, with a snort.

  “Of course,” he replied. “Why break the cycle if I was going to continue to be treated as inferior to the other Gods? The Nine Worlds would already belong to me, if it had not been for the efforts of you and the other Einherjar.”

  “I’m happy I could disappoint you,” I said, flexing my hands.

  Feeling was returning to my arms and legs. It wasn’t much, but it was better than it had been a few moments before. I needed to keep him talking to buy enough time to regain enough strength to fight him. I doubted that even my best was going to be enough to defeat him, but that wasn’t going to stop me from trying.

  With a dramatic toss of his cloak, he swung down from his warhorse and removed his helmet. For the first time, I got a clear look at his face. For some reason, I was expecting a youthful face. Maybe it was because of movies I had seen. The reality was quite a shock. His long reddish-blonde hair was pulled back in a long pony tail and his beard was kept short and cropped close to his face.

  His eyes were quick and sharp, full of cruelty and deceit. They were a deep blue, dark as the North Sea and just as dangerous. His sharp features gave him a sinister and harsh appearance. I suppose he could be considered handsome, but the word I would use to describe him was dangerous. I could see why he was called the Trickster. There was nothing but deceit and guile in his visage.

  I recalled the stories that I read of Loki’s humor, but I saw none of that in him. If I had to guess, I would say he reserved that side of himself for people who hadn’t ruined his plans. Perhaps for good reason, I had drawn his ire. No matter what he promised, I knew that there was no way he would let me leave here alive. Our only shot at survival lay in defeating him, here and now.

  “So,” he said, taking off his cloak and tossing it onto his saddle. “Have you recovered enough or do we need to continue talking while the effects of the poison wear off?”

  The son-of-a-bitch knew all along. I thought he could see right through me, but I had no idea just how right I had been.

  “I must admit, the irony here is not lost on me,” he said, chuckling.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, dreading the answer.

  “You sit there with your beard gone white and your eye-patch,” he said, chuckling. “You are the very image of Odin riding into battle. Behind you, the Wolf-Sisters are Geri and Freki; Odin’s wolves. Huginn and Muninn have been with you for some time, guiding you and giving you signs.”

  I knew instantly what he meant about the ravens. I had been seeing them since the first day I heard about the rioting. When the dead first began to rise, I saw them outside my house. It was the first sign that warned me of the danger that was coming.

  “Why do you call them the Wolf-Sisters?”

  “Thanks to you killing Thrym,” he said, grinning, “they are now the chosen leaders of the Wolf Clan. Another part of the prophecy that has come true.”

  Taking a deep breath, I swung my leg over the saddle and dropped down off of Volcano’s back. I swayed and had to grab ahold of the stirrups to avoid falling, but I stayed on my feet. My vision was still tinged red at the edges, but it wasn’t blurry. I could feel the strength returning to my limbs and knew that I was going to have to be ready to fight soon.

  “Ahh,” he said, smiling, “I see you are almost ready to finish this. Please, take a moment. I want everyone here to see me kill you and have no doubts that I did so easily. Your death with mark the end of Ragnarok and the Nine Worlds will be mine. No one will dare oppose me when you fall.”

  “If you kill me,” I said, darkly.

  That seemed to amuse him. For the first time, I saw his harsh features break into a wide grin and he chuckled softly.

  “I almost hate to kill you, Grant,” he said after a moment. “I do not suppose that you would consider joining me?”

  “Fuck you,” I replied, gritting my teeth.

  “I assumed as much,” he replied. “So be it.”

  Behind me, I could hear the rumble of the volcanic eruption that was devouring Springfield. Above me, I could see the crackling of lighting in the sky. I knew that the light show had to be impressive, but I didn’t want to risk turning my back on Loki so that I could get a look for myself. He was still, after all, the
Trickster.

  “Shall we get this over with?” asked Loki.

  “Hóka-héy,” I said, nodding grimly.

  “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” he said, cocking his head to the side in annoyance.

  “It’s a quote from a famous warrior,” I explained. “A Lakota Sioux Warrior named Crazy Horse said it right before the Battle of Little Big Horn. It means ‘It’s a good day to die.’”

  “Fitting,” said Loki. “It is good that you are prepared to face death.”

  “There’s just one thing,” I said, grinning darkly.

  “Pray tell,” he replied, a note of impatience in his voice.

  “Crazy Horse won that battle,” I added, chuckling.

  Loki frowned deeply as he brought his spear up into position. I instinctively reached for the hilts of my swords and was thrilled to find that my hands had more strength than I had anticipated. Pulling the blades clear of their scabbards was like throwing a switch. Suddenly, all the fatigue and weakness was gone and my focus became absolute. Now it was as if no one else in the world existed except for me and Loki.

  With a war-cry to the Gods, I charged forward and let the bloodlust of the Ulfhednar take me. I could feel each crunch of ice beneath my boots and the cool air as it rushed over my skin. Every sensation seemed to be heightened to the extreme. I could even hear the blood as it rushed through my veins. Once again, time seemed to slow to a crawl.

  Loki thrust at my midsection with a move that was clearly meant to disembowel me, thus ending the fight before it even started. I had anticipated just such a move and parried with the blade in my left hand. As the steel rang on steel, I spun to my left and slashed out with my right hand sword. I had aimed for Loki’s exposed throat, but his speed was unbelievable. One moment, he was there and the next he was spinning away from me, grinning wickedly.

  “You would do better wearing the armor of a true warrior,” he chided, “instead of that human-spawned padded cloth.”

  “My uniform has served me well for years,” I replied, circling around for another attack. “I started this fight as an officer and I’ll end it that way.”